The Dimnina Chronicles
by Drunken Sam
Summary: A story loosely based on Magic: the Gathering about a hero inducted into the government's assasins and then learns a terrible secret.
1. Prologue

The thick, gelatinous muck became glued to Mark's armor. The swamp was notorious for death, but it had become known recently for great treasure. Last month, a hapless denizen of the area found an opal blade, a relic of the past. Now, for extra cash to feed his starving family, Mark risked his life just for the slight chance to find a relic.

Suddenly, something bit Mark's leg. He instinctively looked down at his leg, plunging his head into completely darkness. He struggled to release his head, but the muck held fast. Soon, his lungs burned with poisonous carbon dioxide. Finally, with a great excursion of strength, he lifted his head free and exhaled hard. He swallowed mouthfuls of air before he remembered the danger he was in. Mark decided to run away and try to heal his wounds. However, the second he moved, his foot snagged a swamp plant and he fell face first into the muck. The swamp water filled his nose and mouth, but instead of dying, his lungs filled with pristine air, his heart beat more efficiently, his fatigue drained. His leg healed instantly. Without struggling, Mark slowly returned to his feet. He quickly bottled some of the muck and returned to his home.

The vastness of Dimnina always amazed Mark, but now the simple bottle of swamp muck was so much more amazing now. It contained greater healing power than even the strongest of mages or the wisest doctor. With quick steps, Mark entered an alley and gently tapped a brick with a nearby stick. The wall disappeared and Mark tenderly put the stick exactly back where he found it and entered the new area. The wall reappeared right after him. Mark made his way down a series of steps and entered a smoky pub. A bartender wiped a mug in a circular fashion as two men at the bar talked about the state of the town's economy while smoking cigarettes. One man gave a cough and the other spit in a cloth as Mark approached them. He scratched his head slowly, then quickly and the two men both put out their cigarettes.

"What have you found?" The man asked who had coughed.

"Just some muck Jackson," Mark placed the bottle on the counter.

"You are worthless kid! You brought back some crappy muck? There are billions of gallons of this stuff in the swamp! The best you can do is bottle some?" The man who spit punched Mark in the face, breaking his nose. Blood trickled slowly down his lip. Mark uncorked the bottle of muck and took a drink of it. Suddenly, the bone reformed, healed completely. Both men gasped, Jackson dropping his beer mug. The glass shattered and shards fell all over the floor.

"Kid, what happened?" Jackson asked, fumbling for another cigarette.

"The muck has healing powers! How much can you pay me for this?" Mark suddenly got excited. _My family will finally eat well tonight!_ Mark thought.

"Six bronze coins," Replied Jackson, taking a quick puff of his new cigarette. Mark's jaw dropped.

"Six... coins? I can't even buy a loaf of bread with that!" Mark exclaimed.

"Yeah, so?" the man who spit asked. Mark unsheathed his sword and held it ready to strike. Something red flashed in the eyes of Jackson and Mark's sword melted. The molten iron washed over his hand and stripped it of flesh. Wincing with pain, Mark looked at the two men with eyes of anger and starving for answers.

"The grunts never get paid well, you should learn that now." The man who spit eyes flashed with blue and Mark fell out of his seat, unconscious.

"By the time he wakes up, we'll be long gone." Jackson broke out into laughter followed by his associate. They kicked Mark off to the side and left the pub.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter one

Mark slowly woke up in a bin of trash outside the pub. He sat up slowly and stretched out his extremities. Then he saw his sword hand, his left. There was no longer flesh, but metal. Shocked, Mark shifted his weight and plummeted out of the bin. He fell ten feet from the top and landed on his dominant arm, his right. Mark heard a distinct snap and he knew instantly that it was broken. Pain racked his body and his tears flowed freely. He carefully got to his feet and shambled out of the alley, sharp pain going through his body each time his arm bounced against his body.

Dimnina, the largest city in the known world, always had streets clogged with people. Mark entered a street and people pushed him aside and knocked him to the ground, aggravating his broken arm. Sharp stabbing pains erupted as people tried to get rid of Mark, like so much trash. _The poor are always mistreated like this,_ Mark thought, trying to reassure himself that some higher power wasn't doing this just for laughs. Eventually, Mark made it to the city center, a place so packed with people that they seemed like one massive creature. With the only magic Mark possessed, he increased his sight slightly and surveyed the buildings, finally finding a one that proclaimed, "Master healer inside!". Using his good arm, he lifted it up and charged through the crowd. However, a noble would not allow Mark to treat him like cattle and pushed him to the ground.

"Learn your position! Peasants these days... acting like they're somebody." The man sighed and kicked Mark just for stress relief. Cringing through the pain as flares of blinding pain came from his broken arm, Mark returned to his feet. He pushed the rest of the way to the healer, cursing the caste system of society. Mark was on the lowest caste, born a peasant. The second caste of society was workers, the third caste healers, priests, and all specialized workers. The fourth and final caste consisted of only The One. The One was a demi-god who controlled everything that happened in the city. He was never questioned and never seen, but his presence could be felt throughout the city.

Mark's left hand felt completely alien to him. Without any tissue around the metallic bones, he couldn't move it. He had to make due for now with it forever stuck in a position that one would hold an object, like a sword, in. He carefully knocked on the door with said hand, making sure that he didn't break the door with it.

The door swung open and a beautiful girl answered the door. She wore white silk robes of virgin girls or by healers. Her brown hair was weaved into a braid that hung down to her waist. Sparkling green eyes stared with surprise at Mark's hand glossed with a metallic shine. With soft hands, she grabbed him by the right arm. Mark squealed with pain and the girl let go quickly. "Mark, are you alright?" her voice as close to perfection as possible. 

"Caroline, this is what happened to me." Mark told her the story and then realized what truly happened to him. A mage cast a memory charm on him. This charm, unfortunately, was quite advanced. Most charms just removed the unwanted event from the targets mind. However, this charm removed all traces of the event, the location of the event, the reason for the event, and any memory of the castor or any clue to the identity of said castor from Mark's mind. Even with these holes, Mark could still tell Caroline what happened to him today.

Caroline gracefully touched Mark's chest and murmured a simple chant. Her eyes flashed with white and Mark's arm became transparent. Caroline looked over the bone and found that the humerus was fractured about halfway between the shoulder and the elbow. She tenderly passed her hand through the skin and tissue. Her hand touched the bone and a flash of white appeared in her eyes again. Before Mark's eyes, the bone moved back into the correct position. The blood vessels reweaved themselves together and the bone pieces glued themselves back together. Quickly, Caroline removed her hand and Mark's flesh became its normal color.

Testing the arm carefully, he moved it in every direction and a smile played across his face. "You were always my best friend, Caroline." She nodded then gripped his left hand. White appeared in her eyes, but nothing happened. She frowned and let go of the hand.

"This wound... it's not like repairing a bone. I don't have the expertise to regrow muscle and all the tissues or remove the metal. My father maybe can do it, but he charges." Caroline glanced at Mark's pockets, empty as space. As if mystically drawn by the words, Caroline's father walked down the stairs. He approached Mark and immediately grabbed his metallic hand. White flashed in his eyes and the hand became transparent, revealing that the metal fused completely with the bones. None of the natural tissue remained.

"This will be a challenge Mark. I cannot remove the metal without completely destroying the hand. Even then, you may not ever have a hand again. I could just repair the tissues and leave the metal in, but that means that you will lose most of the flexibility in that hand." The father told Mark.

"What will this cost?" Mark asked.

"I'm afraid that it will cost more than your life." The father said plainly.

"Please dad, you must! For my sake," Caroline pleaded. Her father glared at her. After a moment, the father nodded and led Mark into the examination room. They sat at the table in the middle of the room. The rest of the room consisted of cabinets filled with mana stones and herbs consisting of natural magic power. However, on the table lay a figurine of The One, but in the form of an angel. Its eyes filled with kindness and arms depicted as helping those injured. However, its stance was defensive, making sure that one never felt like The One was just one of their friends.

The father chanted a blessing to the one. Suddenly, his body glowed with the divine glow of magic and he put his palms on the metal bones of Mark. Quickly, the father retreated his hand and the glow of magic faded. However, the glow encompassed the hand as it repaired. Ropes of muscle covered the hand, ligaments and tendons attached the muscles to the metal, and flesh wrapped it all up like a package. Mark, slightly affected by the residual magic, hugged the father affectionately. "Thank you so much!" Mark exclaimed.

"No problem," the father returned the hug. They released the embrace. Then, Caroline entered the room.

"Dad, there is a man at the door. He has something to show you." She told him. Mark and the father both got up and went to the entrance. There stood Jackson and his partner. Suddenly, Mark filled with rage, but didn't know why.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

By its very design, magic can be removed in some way. Charms are particularly susceptible to the mind naturally filling in gaps due to residual emotions. No matter the strength of the charm, emotions always leak through the magic barrier. However, one must focus and have the will to force those suppressed memories through the barrier. Mark's rage filled his entire body, but his focus was not on figuring out why, but on the men standing at the door.

"May we come in?" Jackson asked the healer.

"What for?" the healer asked, skeptical of the businessman at the door. People not injured rarely visited a healer.

"I have a powerful natural agent that will put all of you healers out of business." Jackson paused for dramatic effect. The healer shuffled his feet and a nervous sweat began on his forehead. "I want to give you this chance to become a small part of my business, so that your family won't become as worthless as his." The businessman pointed at Mark, who shamefully bowed his head.

A small memory bubbled to the surface of Mark's mind. The man was Jackson and the other was Zel. They ran a business, but were both mages. Zel specialized in charms and the Jackson in destruction. However, nothing further came to Mark, except for a rage that continuously burned ever stronger. Suddenly, Mark snapped back to reality when the healer said, "You may come in; my name is Adimar by the way."

He led them into a living room. In the middle stood an effigy to The One with a fresh offering placed at the base. Directly beside it was a well worn couch. A table stood in front of the couch made of pure ivory and a glass ashtray with a picture of The One placed in the middle. Across from the couch on the other side of the table the healer brought over a chair, which he promptly sat in. Mark and Caroline stood off to the side and watched.

"May we smoke?" Jackson asked. Adimar hesitated slightly, but then pushed the ashtray towards them. Zel struck a match off the ashtray and lit Jackson and his cigarette. After taking a long drag from it, Zel reached into his suit and placed a bottle of swamp muck on the table. Adimar snatched up the bottle and gazed inquisitively at the bottle.

Mark began to visible shake. His rage became so great that one could see it in his face. He stood rigid as wood, his muscles constricted from anger. Then, Adimar opened the bottle and the smell reawakened Mark's memory completely. Jackson and Zel were corrupted businessman, practically enslaving people then making them search for treasure or another form of get-rich-quick scheme. Mark flexed his left hand and then leaped at Jackson, hand curled up into a fist ready to strike.

Jackson snapped his fingers and a lightning bolt arched from his hand through the path of least resistance: Mark's metallic hand. Smoldering, he flew and hit the wall. A picture fell and the glass covering shattered all over the floor. Getting up slowly, Mark dusted himself off. Caroline attempted to rush toward him, but Zel's eyes flashed blue and both healers became imprisoned in a bubble of magic. "I do believe that we need a more private place to fight... one that doesn't disrespect our master." He placed a small bag of coins at the feet of The One and its two hands glowed with an otherworldly light. The businessman touched a hand and they began to glow with magic, too. Suddenly, the world began to melt and wash away to reveal a pure white plane. The floor blackened and the three fighters settled on it.

Mark rushed towards the businessman. Zel's body flashed blue and a pulse of energy slammed into Mark. He flew backwards and slowly came to a stop. His back aching and static shock erupting all over his body, Mark almost considered playing dead for a second. However, Zel cast some sort of spell that lifted Mark to his feet, forcing him back into the battle. _Could I ever win this, or am I doomed to die today?_, Mark thought in his head. Then, as a miraculous answer to his question, his left hand's tissues evaporated, replaced with the metal gleaming back at him. One finger glowed with a blue tint, another with red, and a one more with white.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw Jackson glow with red and a man-sized fireball rolled towards Mark. Something inside him told him to hold up his iron hand and with no other options, he did so. The fireball came close to licking his flesh, but the hand began to pulsate with a red color and enveloped the fireball. The energy slowly shrank the spell until it vanished entirely. The businessmen shared glances then Zel flashed blue and a bubble formed around Mark. With the simple touch of his metal hand, the bubble vanished in the same way as the fireball had. A smile played across the face of Mark.

"Now answer this... what does a wizard do when he greatest weapons are rendered useless?" Mark laughed and Zel rushed toward him, a dagger held at the ready. Mark drew back his fist and rammed it straight through Zel's chest. He stumbled backwards and looked down at his shirt. The fabric was ripped and soaked in blood. He lifted it up and looked in horror at the hole in his chest. Intestines hung loosely out the sides and blood gushed freely from his chest cavity. With shock, he collapsed. Jackson came over to him and took out a bottle of muck.

Acting quickly, Mark kicked the bottle out of his hand. However, Jackson gripped him by the ankle and brought him to the floor. Then, the businessman took Zel's discarded dagger from the floor and raised it to strike. With his right hand, he hit Jackson in the crotch. The pain spread quickly through his body from the force of the impact and brought him to his knees. With the cumulative rage of the evening, Mark hit Jackson in the head with all his might. The force of the metallic hand shattered all the bones of in Jackson's skull. The back of his head burst open and his brain sloshed out and onto the ground.

Suddenly, with the creator dead, the magically created dimension vanished. Jackson and Zel, both being dead, remained in the dimension, lost forever. Caroline and Adimar were mysteriously absent from the house. Mark made his way to the entrance when suddenly, a gag got shoved in his mouth and his limbs were bound together. "You have us to thank for saving your life." A husky voice whispered in Mark's ear.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A silk blindfold wrapped around Mark's eyes. Someone hit him in the knees with a sword hilt and he crumpled to the floor. Two hands grabbed him by the legs and another two grabbed him by the hands. The air changed and Mark guessed he just exited the house. The kidnappers tossed him in a box and closed the lid. A few holes let spots of light shine on the blindfold.

The box began to move and Mark guessed he had been loaded on a wagon. He struggled frequently to loose the ropes, but they had been magically reinforced. _The bonds could be as strong as The One for all I know,_ Mark thought. Hours went by. Once, the movement stopped and someone opened the box lid. He touched Mark and instantly his hunger vanished and his thirst became quenched. Then, the lid closed and the movement increased again.

Eventually, the wagon stopped after about a day of travel. Two men started talking.

"How does the ritual go again?" A shrill voiced man asked.

"First, you cast this," the husky voice stopped and Mark heard the sizzle of fire. "You conjure this," the voice stopped again and Mark heard the cackle of lightning. "Finally, ring this and it will fuse the two aspects." A soft, pleasant ring resonated from the bell and the fire and lightning sounds stopped. Suddenly, a new sound formed. Mark related it to a sucking, like a man who had almost drowned gulping for air. The two men went back into the wagon and the world exploded and nothing existed. Mark, in this infinite eternity of nothingness, thought that they had entered a portal.

Quickly, the world reformed and Mark's senses readjusted. A man grabbed him and tossed him on the ground. He slashed the blindfold off, slicing a gash diagonally across his face. The man smeared a healing salve on the wound instantly before the pain could start and a scar formed instantly. "Your scars will show your rank, recruit." The man told. He cut off the ropes and removed the gag. Mark stood up and tried to punch his kidnapper in the face with his left hand. For the first time, Mark realized that his hand felt like a sac of bricks and he could barely lift it. The man noticed his struggling and a smile crossed his face.

"Don't you remember, we helped you win that fight!" The husky voice flashed blue and Mark's hand became lighter than the air. Then, with a wave of his hand, the hand dropped to the earth, creating a dent in the earth.

"What…? Didn't I destroy their magic?" Mark grunted in exertion as he got to his feet. The metal arm hung loosely from his side. The man's eyes flashed a rainbow color and Mark's hand glowed with every color known to man.

"That charm is one of the basic defenses they teach in the academy." The man laughed at Mark's ignorance. "You rookies always crack me up!" Mark stood in shame.

The two men that kidnapped him lead him towards an establishment. The usual The One's insignia was engraved into the gate. As soon as the three men approached the gate, two angels dropped from the sky in front of them. Their bodies were a solid white and quite shapeless. Only the beings' weapons could be clearly seen. The two men touched their chest and their clothes dissolved. Carved into their chests was the face of The One. The tattoos glowed in the fiery power of The One, obviously increasing their power by connecting them with The One. The angels shared a look and pointed their silver blades at Mark's heart. He jumped back and felt his heart skip several beats. Sweat instantly coated his face. Then, the angels brought their blades back and stabbed at Mark.

As the blade slid into his body, Mark began to see his entire life. He didn't even feel the burning kiss of the blade when it pierced into his soul. He watched the visions that the angels' extracted from him. The beings watched all his memories and the present. Then, with a pulse of rainbow color from the angels, the blades formulated Mark's future.

_The One stood before him, a watchful stare fixed on him. A man approached Mark put his hand on his shoulder. Mark gently dropped to his knees and the man unsheathed a sword. This special sword had two blades placed parallel to each other on an extra long hilt. Preparing the blade, the man dipped the rightmost blade in a whitish fluid. Although the fluid burned the sword to a blunt edge, Mark could smell the healing magic in the fluid. The man gestured Mark to remove his shirt and he gladly did. The man placed the sword gingerly onto Mark's back and then poked through the skin, deep enough to scar, but shallow enough to only cut capillaries. The second blade swept over the wound and instantly healed it, but left a black scar._

The vision faded and the blades retracted out of Mark's body. The weapons left no injury and the angels flew into the sky, disappearing from sight. Mark collapsed on the soft earth and passed out. Then, a sharp pain came from his side and he awoke quickly. "What happened?" Mark asked. One of his kidnappers grabbed him by the hair and leaned down, staring into his face.

"You were weak and gave in to exhaustion." The man hissed. He slammed Mark's head onto the ground, causing a bump to form on his forehead. Slowly, he got to his feet and looked at his two kidnappers.

"Sorry… that… "experience" was really… weird." Mark told.

"Yeah, I remember that first time I met the angel guardians." The shrill voiced man touched his chest and his shirt reappeared. "It wasn't pretty," he smiled.

"Come, lets go!" the man with the husky voice waved his hand for them to follow.

Mark examined the small town. Directly in front of them was a huge building, over thirty floors high. The husky voice man stopped and pointed, telling Mark the building is the dormitories. They followed a path past it and around the building. They passed small arenas and the shrill voice man told Mark that they were training grounds. Mark saw a new building that glow with divine magic. The husky voiced man grabbed Mark's shoulders and stared him in the face. "Your in too deep to turn back now. You're about to join the prestigious ranks of The One's assassins. In the academy, you will learn to cast magic; you will receive the boon of The One. You have seen our boons. They were the tattoos. Do you have any questions before you see The One?"

"Why does The One need assassins? Aren't the angels enough?" Mark asked. The shrill voiced man shook his head.

"The angels can't be assassins. They are summoned creatures, and even if The One did summon one, they are stuck within the influence of spell range. I'm sure you have seen spell range's application before. A spell can only go so far before the power that made the spell vanishes. Well, summoned creatures can't leave a certain area where they were summoned without fading. Assassins must be trained to seek out the targets of The One." Mark nodded. He understood the task before him. He must defend his God.

"I have one more question. Why me?" Mark asked.

"You show prowess. You successfully broke out of a high level charm and you have a lot of talent. Your will be a powerful agent one day." The husky voiced man explained. Mark began to smile. He wasn't a worthless commoner anymore. He now was somebody.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Mark followed the men towards the glowing building. As they approached it, the smell of fire, water, medicine, plants, and death assailed Mark's senses. He started to see hallucinations in the glow. At one moment, an apparition of a man planning to steal a noble's wallet and the next moment a man murdering someone. The hallucinations were always of crimes, _maybe they function like a bulletin board would_, Mark thought.

For the first time, Mark noticed what the two assassins wore. Black shirts, coats, pants, gloves, boots, and glasses were both worn by them and seemed to be the standard of dress. Hundreds of people, always dressed in solid black, seemed to meander around the campus. Finally, they entered the building. "We must go, we have work to do." The shrill voiced man said and gave Mark an inspirational push.

The inside of the building seemed to be every color and none of the colors at once. When Mark focused on one spot, it seemed translucent, but when he looked away the spot glowed with colors. A man approached Mark. "Hello, I see you're a recruit." The man pointed at Mark's face. His hands felt the scar that had happened earlier. "Follow me," the man walked around the corner and Mark followed. At the end of the hallway, the man showed Mark into the room. Three other people sat in seats, all with the same scar across their face, like Mark. The real assassins had three scars, two diagonally and one vertically through the nose. No one seemed to have two scars.

A man beckoned for Mark and gave him a slip with a number, four. The man's eyes flashed blue and a chair appeared next to the other three. Mark sat in it and looked over at the fellow rookies. All of them wore clothes of commoners, worn shirts and faded pants. Mark thought about it for awhile then fell asleep. For the first time in his life, he had a dream.

Mark… you are under my care now_. The One's image swirled into view of Mark. Nodding, Mark bowed before him. _You will be powerful one day. My power will help you become stronger. Do you accept my boon? _Mark nodded._

"Number four, get up!" the man shook him. "You need to follow me." Mark stretched his legs and arms then followed the man. The dream lurked in his memory, The One's face vivid and clear. Its eyes convoyed the love and caring a mother gives her child. _Does this happen to all the recruits?_ Mark thought. The man led Mark to the center of the building. He opened large translucent doors with the insignia of The One. The room was mostly hollow and filled with a shapeless void. "Now, jump into it, don't be afraid." The man placed a hand on Mark's back and pushed.

The void never ended. Mark eventually stopped screaming after a minute and the image of The One filled his vision, with those love and caring eyes. The fear melted away and a booming voice filled his head. _Mark, I am your creator, your master, your guardian. I am what you call The One. The void you are falling through is a magical realm. Humans cannot look at my brilliance without dying. Now, onto the matter at hand; what does you talent suggest you should do. You're filled with strength and a weapon for that strength. There is a spark of magic in you, one inherited from your father. _Minutes pass and Mark waits patiently for The One's decision.

_Mark, you wonder why I need assassins, don't you? There are people powerful enough to kill me. I cannot interfere in the lives of the citizens of this world. I have very little actual power. _Mark gasped. "You're a God!"

_No, I am a demi-god. I am powerful enough to sustain this world, but can do very little else. However, my assassins are the extensions of my will, a will that can possess more power than I can, without abandoning the world._

"What do you want for me to do?" Mark asked. Suddenly, he was on his feet and a man stood before him. He took out a blade and sliced Mark across the face four times. Each searing cut quickly healed from an applied salve. _Mark, you are now a mage assassin._ Mark felt his three new scars. Two new scars were perpendicular to his nose, one above and one below the eyes and parallel to them as well. The other two new scars vertically sliced his nose and diagonally across his nose. Suddenly, magic pumped through Mark's bodies and his mind exploded with spells. He knew how to cast thousands of them.

The man looked at Mark, "Its time for the boon." He touched Mark's shoulder. He slowly went to his knees and the man took out a special sword, the one seen in the angel-induced premonition. The event happened exactly as the angels saw it. The whole ceremony took four hours, eventually creating a scar pattern of The One's face. The boon focused and caused a surge of power to flow through Mark. He turned around and presented his chest for carving. Another two hours pasted and an identical scar pattern eventually formed on his chest.

Mark's eyes glowed with the divine power of mana and The One. "I am ready!" He yelled and a pulse of energy swept through the cavernous room.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter four

The house's bricks were painted with an earthy hue. It gave off the feel that someone practical lived in the house. However, Mark knew better. His orders were to confirm that this guy wanted The One to be destroyed, and then take him out. Mark had been kneeling for the past day, magically feeding himself and drinking from a nearby pond. Today, the man revealed his true nature. He summoned five demons to guard him while he made preparations for a spell to destroy The One.

Mark studied the five identical demons. Each stood upright on two clawed feet. They were approximately eight feet tall and black as coal. Their muscled arms sported a hand on each of them with ten razor sharp nails. However, the strongest feature of the demons was their faces. Five rows of knife shaped teeth barely fit in the mouth and two horns arched out of their forehead. The red eyes scanned the area, always missing Mark due to his invisibility charm.

_The demons would be hard, but not impossible to beat_, Mark thought. He rose to full height, his metallic hand almost weightless due to a charm. Mark took a step, only to hear a crunch. The five demons flocked to the nearest window to Mark and stared. Standing perfectly still, Mark hoped that his charm would hold. _Surprise is always a good tactic in battle_, Mark told himself. After a minute, the demons looked at each other and dispersed. Mark lifted his foot and looked down at what lay broken. The item, now in shards, had been a glass doll. The sharp glass debris reflected Mark as he made his way to the door. He opened it and the five demons looked directly at him.

The wizard suddenly stopped. A loud blaring noise rang in his head as his alarm charm went off. His eyes flashed black and five more demons appeared in a puff of ash. "Kill the intruder!" the wizard yelled as he grabbed for a cigarette in his robe. The five demons nodded and stormed down the stairs. They entered the entrance hallway and their collective minds became connected with the first five. _There seems to be no intruder!_ One demon announced.

_I smell one. He smells like fresh meat. Another demon replied._

It does not matter, we must make sure. Master must not be disturbed. One demon said.

Kill! Maim! Destroy! Murder! Homicide! Slay! Assassinate! Execute! Slaughter! Massacre! Mutilate! The demon pounced at the air.

Mark quickly dived to the right as the black projectile came towards him. The charm couldn't compensate for the sudden movement and failed. Without the spell, Mark's body was dangerously vulnerable to attack, with the only armor being an enchanted leather cuirass. Gripping tighter on the staff, The One's face carved on the side, and aimed it at the demon. The weapon pulsated a bright white and ethereal shackles bound the demon to the doorway. A horn gutted the bound creature and it exploded in a black, poisonous cloud. The staff began to glow blue and a bubble encased the poison and vanished.

The nine demons flooded out of the door and grouped together, staring at the lone enemy, Mark. He held a staff at ready, but the demons laughed as best as they could with no mouths. With a unanimous agreement, they flung themselves at Mark. His staff exploded with green and a fog encased him. The demons landed in it and hit soft earth. Mark appeared five feet away; his staff now had a green radiance. An emerald summoner's circle enclosed Mark and a faint murmur could be heard. The circle quickly vanished and an earthquake started. At first, it was a dull roar of the Earth, but soon the ground visible shook. Dimnina citizens quickly became interested in the fight, but horrified by the seismic event. A rainbow glow encompassed the staff and walls enveloped the fight, keeping people from watching.

The earthquake stopped and a wurm smashed from the surface, gripping a demon in its teeth. The thing was gigantic, about three times the size of the demons, both wide and high. The wurm looked exactly like a worm, except one major difference. The wurm's teeth could bite through adamantine metal. The five feet wide incisors easily snapped the demon in half, but a poison cloud entered the beast's throat. The monster became quite pale, but with a flash of green from the staff, the wurm regained its dark brown complexion.

The demons, formally stalled by the sudden earthquake and wurm attack, launched at the two opponents. Four fiends scurried up the wurm's flesh, but it dunked back into its tunnel, slamming the four monsters onto the ground. The other four demons pounced on Mark, whose staff flashed red and a bolt of lightning arced from it and electrocuted all four of them. They fell to the ground; smoldering and one violently shook with spasms. All eight spirits regrouped and attacked Mark with a frontal assault. Before Mark could get off a spell, a horn punctured his chest. Dark red blood flooded from the wound, staining the horn as it slid out. The summoned wurm broke the surface again and swallowed the demon that injured Mark.

Stunned and blinded by the fireball of pain in his chest, Mark barely conjured another cloud of fog. Precious life flooded onto the ground as the demons wandered aimlessly through the mist. Mark's eyes flashed white and a milky, foul smelling cream formed in his palm. Applying the balm directly to the wound, sweet relief quickly flooded his senses. The wound quickly sucked in the ointment and healed quickly. The fog disappeared and Mark caught the image of his wurm gulping down yet another demon. The gas entered the beast's throat and the wurm fell limply on its side, defeated. Fully recovered, Mark stood on his feet and his eyes shined a fiery red. Another bolt of lightning arced from the staff and hit the four previously shocked creatures. They all exploded into a huge storm of poison.

Mark funneled white magic into his staff and changed the poison into a healing vapor. Some of the fog entered the wurm, bringing it back to life. Most of the haze of life-infused poison entered the lungs of the two remaining demons. They grabbed their throats, but the healing magic couldn't be stopped. They began to shine pure white and they burst with a flash of light. Mark entered the house.

Cautiously, Mark walked through the hallway, looking around every corner and amplifying his vision with magic. Besides the primitive alarm charm on the door, no traps or creatures lurked in the house. Step by step, Mark went up the stairs and pushed open the door. He was greeted with a blasted of lightning, sending him flying down the steps. His muscles contorted with the electricity. His skin sizzled and his hair smoldered. Eventually, the energy faded and Mark returned to the second floor. This time, he conjured a floating shield that absorbed the fiery projectile that went flying for him. Rushing into the room, he switched his staff to his left, metallic hand. _A blow from that hand would crack any bone easily,_ Mark thought as he rolled in.

The wizard inside exhaled a cloud a smoke and dropped his cigarette. He stamped it out. "Hello, I've been enjoying the battle you gave my pets." A laugh escaped his lips. "You won't be able to beat me if you fight like you did down there!" His mouth expanded exposing a cavernous mouth as a laugh like an animal dying boomed throughout the room. Mark shook his head and tossed a fireball at the wizard. With a flick of his wrist, the spell circled around him and hit Mark. The fiery bullet melted his armor in a split second, but the magic died before it did anything else. Mark fired a beam of electricity at the wizard, but his eyes flashed blue and the spell faded.

"What the?" Mark asked before he could stop himself. The wizard let another laugh come out of his mouth. Mark's ears started to bleed. 

"I have been training in secret. For years, I have practiced all forms of magic. For decades, I have honed my countermagic. Now, they send a weakling to take me on? Is that The One's plan?" A blood-curling laugh boomed through the room. "Its time to die!" the wizard's eyes flashed black and a shadow covered Mark's body. His whole body started to tingle. His fingers became black with rot and started to shrivel up. The shiny metal of his left hand began to become visible.

Mark quickly accessed The One's magic boon and his body flashed white, expelling all black magic from it. Then, he jumped at the wizard, staff held above his head. The man jumped aside and kicked Mark in the head. Suddenly, the house rumbled as if the foundation was breaking. The wurm popped up from the ground underneath the wizard, grabbing him in his mouth. The mage grabbed a vial from his belt and tossed it at the beast's eyes. Black fluid coated the creature's face and the flesh melted off. Rain of molten flesh splashed onto Mark, who immediately wiped it off. The wurm vanished, completely destroyed.

The wizard magically fell slowly to the ground and pressed his hands together. An aura of darkness surrounded him. Mark channeled The One's energy and it flowed into the staff. With a flash of the rainbow, a sphere appeared around Mark. The wizard finished his spell and fired a beam of pure death. The sphere attempted to absorb the spell, but some of it leaked through. The magic entered Mark's body and every part of him started to rapidly die. He fell to the floor, dripping with death. Before he lost consciousness, his eyes flashed white and then closed. 

"Did you see that, you God? The One, supposedly all-powerful, sends weak minions to kill me? No one shall defeat Jiren, never!" With a puff of blue smoke, Jiren vanished.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter five

"This doesn't make any sense," Adimar surveyed the room. He was in Jiren's house, looking for the assassin that was ordered to take the conspirator out. The murder never happened, the target's body or signs of anything dead was anywhere in the house. Also, the assassin had sent out a distress signal, but there was no sign of that person either. "I think I need to see the whole picture to find out what happened." Adimar's eyes flashed blue and the room became enclosed by a summoner's circle. The turquoise ring expanded to a sphere and began rotating, counterclockwise. The force of the spell shattered the two windows, throwing shards all over the floor. The room rewound to the point where Jiren vanished and an unrecognizable assassin lay, rotting and festering on the floor. The only distinguishable feature of the decaying heap was the shiny glint of metal exposed beneath the crumbling, diseased flesh.

"Mark, damn it, you died," Adimar said blatantly. Slightly shaking, the master healer dropped to his knees and tears flowed freely down his face. "Damn it, why Mark? Why did you do this?" Adimar tried to grab Mark's body, but the time field stopped the priest's fingers from holding on to the decomposing mess. Without even a sound, the door swung open. From it, five tiny white sparks hovered over the corpse. Noticing these beings, Adimar held back his tears and stared at them. The creatures' bodies were composed of pure light; however they had eight pairs of millimeter long wings, barely seen because of the glare they gave off. Like snowflakes, the spirits fell from the air, slowly entering Mark.

The putrid pile exploded with balls of white light, almost blind Adimar. An ethereal ghost hovered in the air next to the body. It was Mark's soul, brought back to the earth by the spirits. The apparition looked over the newly healed body and fused with it. "Bless The One, Mark's alive!" Adimar's tears flowed again, his joy inexpressible any other way. A gang of five goblins leaped into the room. The three feet tall creatures looked like human children, except for the very sharp teeth and green flesh.

"Hmm, human look tasty!" one licked his lips and the sharp fangs showed out of its mouth.

"No, master wants us to bring him in," another goblin grabbed one hand of Mark, followed by three lifting the other limbs of the human.

"I want to taste him so bad!" The hungry goblin leaped at Mark's left hand and the goblin's teeth sank into the meaty hand, only to shatter on the metal hand.

"That what you get for disobeying master." A goblin scolded before making the hungry one support the head. Adimar became tense.

"What master? Where are you going? Please, I need answers!" Adimar pleaded, but the time field prevented anyone from hearing. With a rumble, the door frame flung violently from the wall, splintering on the wall. The wood lay in a heap beside the meaty legs of a troll. The creature's flesh had the same complexion of the goblins and the same teeth, but this monster towered at eight feet, forcing it to arch its back and hump over to fit in the tiny room. The one thousand pound behemoth lumbered toward Adimar. "What is that doing here?" Adimar readied his staff just in case. For some reason, the healer felt that the troll wasn't part of the past. Then, his time reversal spell finished and the troll remained, confirming the cleric's suspicions.

The troll readied his hand for punching as a shield appeared before Adimar. The fist smashed through the shield, hitting the priest in his chest. Winded, Adimar fell over and doubled up in pain. The beast retreated out of the room and a wizard soon took its place. "Hello Adimar, I see that the troll caused you a little problem." The wizard laughed. The laugh sounded much like a screech, causing the healer to grab at his ears.

"Who are you and how do you know my name?" Adimar managed to suck in enough air to talk finally.

"I am Jiren, nice to meet you." The wizard offered his hand to help Adimar up. "I know your name by a simple charm.

"May I ask what are you doing here?" The healer shook off the large pile of dust he landed in. _Why are there piles of dust all over the place here?_ Adimar wondered.

"First, I'm sorry about all the dust. A wurm died here and a lot of its skin fell all over the place. Now, this is my house and one of my charms said a person was in here. Now, what are you doing here?" Jiren smiled; the gesture was like a Venus fly trap, inviting but deadly.

"I was just searching for one of my friends. He was around in this area earlier." Adimar glanced around, nervous. Jiren grabbed the healer by the throat.

"Liar! You are searching for that assassin sent by The One! He's gone, in my care now." Jiren's eyes flooded with black mana.

"I... please... let me live... I don't... want to die." Adimar managed to say. The grip on his neck tightened and all the air flow to his lungs stopped.

"That's the problem with Dominions. No one wants to die; they all want something for themselves. Everyone is selfish. Sometimes, you must be brought to the brink of death to understand!" Jiren removed his hand and Adimar fell limply to the floor, gasping for breath. His purple face quickly regained its pinkish hue. "I died once." Jiren took out a cigarette and lit it. "No one ever revived me... no, I am a planeswalker." Adimar's eyes widened.

"A planeswalker? No, it can't be!" Adimar's face twisted into fright. "Planeswalkers are the epitome of evil. None are supposed to exist, you abomination!"

"Is that more of The One's propaganda? Planeswalkers are humans, but much more. So much more, that it is impossible for me to imagine being a common human again. See, planeswalkers are normal people, but they have a spark. Their soul is destined to want to travel the multiverse forever. A planeswalker is just an extraordinary person, not a monster." Jiren explained between drags. Soon, the room filled with a thin haze of smoke.

"You're lying. Planeswalkers are monsters masquerading as humans. They harvest us, innocent Dimninains, for food to sustain their bond to this existence, just like you killed Mark. How dare you contradict The One and then kill one of his servants! He tells us what planeswalkers are, and what he says is the truth!" Adimar yelled, reaching his feet. Jiren shook his head and smiled. He put out his cigarette.

"Adimar, sweet innocent Adimar. Those are lies. Nothing you said is the truth. All are lies perpetuated by The One. I almost kill you, and you still don't know. I had to die to learn the truth... I guess you do to." With a snap of Jiren's fingers, he vanished and the troll reappeared. A mighty fist swung at Adimar's head. Before he could do anything, the brick-sized fist crushed his head flatter than a pancake. Blood splattered all over the walls with pieces of the brain here and there. A soft thump was heard as the troll crushed the rest of the healer under its massive foot.

Mark had met The One, face to face. He basked in the loving glow of his God. Then, demons grabbed his leg and dragged him back to Dimnina, hovering above his body. With an angelic voice, his ghost questioned the motives of The One. "Why, why did you allow them to take me away from you?" with the great divine ambiguity of any god, there was no answer. With a jolt, Mark woke in a dark room with water dropping on his head. His arms and legs were strapped to the wall. The five goblins watched him, one licking his lip and placing artificial fangs in his mouth. It made its way towards Mark, chomping the air in anticipation. A door slid open behind the four goblins and they jumped. A sweep of the hand of the shadowy figure banished all five goblins to the Æther.

"Mark, we meet again," Jiren revealed himself in the light of a white floating ball. Mark instantly tightened his muscles in rage.

"Defeating me once was not enough? Do you have to kill me again?" Mark tried to get his arms out of the bonds, but it was futile. _How does he know my name?_ Mark asked himself.

"I know your name by a simple divination charm, Mark. Now, I went through a lot of this earlier today, but I say it all again." Jiren conjured a chair and sat down, lighting a cigarette. After a long drag, Jiren conjured an image of Adimar. "He's dead," the wizard told Mark, emotionless and remorseless. Mark dropped his head.

"What?" Mark refused to believe what he had heard.

"Adimar is dead," Jiren replied, enunciating each word. Tears flowed down Mark's face.

"No, you can't be serious. He's a healer. Healers don't die," Mark began laughing. "You're very funny Jiren, very funny and a bad liar, too." Suddenly, Mark's mind flooded with the image of Adimar dying, the punch, the aftermath, everything. The whole memory seemed to contain the very presence of Jiren, like everything that led up to his death was caused by him. Mark realized Jiren did this, "I hate you!" Mark tried to jump at Jiren, but the bonds held. Then, the one holding his left hand snapped. Working quickly, Mark removed the other bonds and leaped at Jiren. With a simple gesture, ethereal ropes bound Mark to the wall again.

"Adimar had to die. He refused to believe that The One is a liar. He refused to believe the truth." Jiren flooded Mark with the memory of the whole conversation. Mark shook his head.

"Adimar was... is right. Planeswalkers are fiends, mockeries of real people. Jiren, you are a devilish bastard, killing the only person I... ever looked up to. Go to hell, may The One kill you!" Mark spat at Jiren, the fluid landing a few inches away.

"Mark, do you know the saying 'Human without, The One within'?" Jiren asked.

"Yes, it means we are individuals and The One is our driving force." Mark replied, calming down as he was powerless to do anything else. A wave of energy smashed Mark's body into the wall, sending a spasm throughout his body.

"Wrong! Wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong! It means you are all one person, you got that right. Everyone is there own selfish person. However, the second part is the one that will make you hate The One more than me. Whenever you pray to The One, use his energy, or do anything with The One in mind, he steals a piece of your soul. Eventually, you're a soulless husk, completely controlled by The One. That boon on your chest and back, it saps your soul every second, slowly. Soon, you will be a pawn, with no ambitions or goals besides to serve The One. That is why all The One's assassins are commoners, the lowest caste. They are more willing to subjugate themselves to the scarring and the cult." Jiren smashed his empty cigarette pack under his foot and it vanished. Mark did not say anything.

"Why?" Mark managed to whimper.

"The One does this only because he is a planeswalker who fought me once. He lost, weakened to the state of an immobile statue. He created Dimnina after this fight and created people by using the last of his energy. In this way, he planned to eventually harvest the inhabitants of the planet and recharge himself. I am here to stop it. If he himself tried to fight me again, he will die. He is not yet strong enough. Slowly, he is gaining strength, harvesting energy from people like you or healers, like Adimar. One day, he will be stronger than I and that day, you will be dead. He will have stolen your energy and made you another puppet. You will be part of an army against me." Jiren removed the bonds and Mark dropped to the ground, stunned by the talk.

"What can I do?" Mark asked.

"You don't know why I saved you?" Jiren showed Mark the memory of five white spirits reviving Mark.

"I don't understand," Mark replied.

"You are a planeswalker, Mark. Your fate and my fate are now intertwined. We both will kill The One." Jiren's eyes flashed white and a wave of magic washed over Mark's body. His scars vanished and his boon dissolved. "However, Mark, you must first do something. You must master your new abilities as a planeswalker. Rest for tonight and have some food, because tomorrow, we are heading to Dominaria." Jiren closed the cell's door and Mark stood, slowly absorbing what had happened today.

If you read the story, please provide some feedback or acknowledgement that you read it. If you don't, I won't be able to tell what you think of the story.


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